


Herding Kittens

by jeeg94



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Chimeras, Kittens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeg94/pseuds/jeeg94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: "Stupid alchemists and their damnable curiosity! Why couldn't they just leave the subject of human transmutation alone?" Intended to be a oneshot but I discovered I didn't have the patience for that. If you don't like yaoi or mild bestiality, don't read. Rating will change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Herding Kittens

**Author's Note:**

> Tentative title: Herding Kittens  
> Author: jeeg94  
> Rating: a very tentative PG-13  
> Pairing: Roy/Ed and others if you squint  
> Summary: Stupid alchemists and their damnable curiosity! Why couldn't they just leave the subject of human transmutation alone?
> 
> A/N: Hey guys! So this is me back with a new fic that I am in love with! I just adore writing Ed with this kind of personality and, although the plot is not concrete yet, I'm really excited for this one :D It will hopefully combine elements from lots of my fave stories, including soul bonding, chimera!Ed, overprotective!Al and many more! The update schedule is (again, tentatively) set for every month if I can get off my arse and do it but a kick in the pants (in the form of a nice review) is always welcome! :D
> 
> Anyways, tell me what you think and if there's anything I missed, give me a shout out!
> 
> Enjoy!

This was one of those missions, Ed thought, where everything that could go wrong, would go wrong.

Upon discovering the lair of a rogue state alchemist, Colonel Edward Elric had called his commanding officer for backup and a cleanup team. He was to get in, nab the alchemist and get out with as minimal damage as possible and then aid the cleanup team in sorting through the paraphernalia and destroy what needed destroying. There was to be no funny business and as little alchemy as possible because they weren't sure what kind of arrays this guy was researching.

Of course, when it came to Ed, what was supposed to happen, didn't.

Major Hawkeye and First Lieutenant Havoc pulled up in a shiny black, military owned cruiser and picked their way over to Ed's hidden position in the doorway of a building across the street from the warehouse that the alchemist was in. As the two soldiers crouched down next to him, Ed sent them a questioning look that clearly asked where the General was. He had specifically requested that the Flame Alchemist be present for this capture as Ed was leaving directly for a mission in Creta and didn't have time to stop at the office and hand in a report. The only available train had been for noon that day, right before the station closed for the government holiday.

“Where's the bastard?” He asked, his voice rough from long hours of disuse; he had been staking out the warehouse since he had been rudely woken up at four that morning by the blaring trumpet of the ex-military couple that lived next door. The whole situation made Ed continuously glad he had never had to suffer through the Military Academy.

“General Mustang will be along shortly. His paperwork took longer than normal today because I shot his hand. Don't worry, sir,” She pacified quickly, picking up on Ed's alarm, “It was only a graze. He was just being a baby about it.”

Ed wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or terrified. Never had he heard of Hawkeye actually shooting Mustang, even if it wasn't all that bad a hit. The man must've been a real jerk today to merit such treatment from his most loyal subordinate. Ed was about to ask what got up the bastards butt when another black, military issue van pulled to a stop on the opposite curb.

Ed was surprised when the man stepped out in plain, civilian attire. To his knowledge, Mustang had had his afternoon off today, just like most of the rest of the city, but it was always a shock to see the man out of uniform and looking so in his element. Aside from the clumsily wrapped bandage on his left hand, he wore shined black shoes and sinfully tight, beige slacks that left nothing to Ed's imagination. Over top of a pressed, white shirt, he wore what Ed recognized as an expensive tailored jacket.

Overall, Ed thought, drool-worthy.

Shaking his head, he focused back on the present to motion the man over and Hawkeye and Havoc quickly began explaining the details. The mission had been delegated by Fuhrer Grumman directly to Ed so Mustang hadn't heard anything other than that it was an investigation of an old laboratory. Talking of that, not even Ed knew any details other than the research had something to do with human transmutation and chimerae.

“Have you got fresh gloves, sir?” Ed chuckled at the almost audible eye-roll that Mustang gave Hawkeye for that question, “It's a valid question, sir. You have been known to show up with ripped or worn gloves when you overwork yourself.”

“Yes, Major. I currently have clean, functional gloves on my hands.” He said, softening his look at Hawkeye's obvious concern.

“Well, good,” Ed broke in as he watched a nondescript woman in a lab coat walk up to the doors of the place, “Because our target is now entering the building. We're to go in, apprehend anyone we see and hope to shit we don’t set off any arrays.”

The three of them nodded, all deferring to his expertise. His stake out had entailed some minor espionage in which he had waited until the targets had left and scouted the perimeter all available entrances and exits. What he had seen through the windows was sickeningly intriguing and Ed had had to physically jerk himself back to reality. He had never known that arrays of that kind could be so interesting. With that in mind, he began debriefing his team.

“There are only two exits and one is blocked alchemically. Stupid move if you ask me. The windows are all too high off the ground for anyone _normal_ to enter and I only found half of them on pure chance. They've all been hidden with some sort of array that warps the air particles to confuse the human eye. That one is actually pretty brilliant even if it does staunch air flow a bit. Whoever we're dealing with is a pro and knows it but their confidence is their weakness. I have seen small flaws in their arrays. I wouldn't be so suspicious if it was only one or two of the arrays.”

“What do you mean? Like just a line that's uncommonly thick or entirely displaced symbols?” Havoc asked, surprising Ed with his knowledge. Over the years he had gotten much better at keeping up with all the technical jargon that Mustang and Ed threw around when they debated the finer points of alchemy.

“A bit of both, really. Every other array has a twenty centimetre diameter when it only needs fourteen point eight to hold a proper charge. Not to mention, some of the symbols aren’t even used in modern day alchemy. It seems like someone is trying to combine two different bases which, everyone knows is exceedingly dangerous.” He replied, a frown marring his features.

“So you believe there's more to it than there appears?” Was Hawkeye's astute observation. 

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Ed explained, “I think there's a cascade effect set up in there somewhere. That means that if I try to deactivate or overload one array, the rest will either activate or come crashing down around my ears, blowing us and the rest of this block to bits in the process. The general purpose of the array is the manipulation of air particles but the slight changes in the array may indicate something entirely different. They could be anything from flame alchemy,” he said, looking at Mustang, “to a side effect of an array broken down into base components with inactive charges.” 

Ed put a contemplative finger to his lips as he mentally tried out different combinations for the arrays. Activating one single array at a time would probably cause an explosion worthy of the Flame Alchemist but Ed was having a surprisingly hard time overlapping more than three circles at a time.

“I suppose the only way to find out is to test it.” Without warning, Ed stood up and walked a couple of feet away from his backup, coattails flapping behind him. He didn't want them to get caught up in any sort of backlash if the arrays backfired. Clapping his hands, he was about to place them to the ground when the picture of the arrays fused into one cohesive design in his head but he was too late to stop himself.

Ed fell forward, placing his hands on the ground and the energy cycling beneath his skin was released into the ground. A bright flash of lightning was quickly followed by the scent of ozone and the last thing he saw before he passed out was an odd looking black kitten making its shaky way out of the circumference of the array.

-_-_-

When Fullmetal stood up abruptly and moved a few steps down the alley to test out the array, Roy just knew something bad was going to happen. It was almost natural to surge to his feet and reach for the blond's coattails but he was too late. Fullmetal lurched forward jerkily, pressing his hands to the ground and Roy was just able to throw up his arms in time to block the painful flash of blue lights. 

With all the grace of a frightened bear, Roy threw himself backward, taking Havoc and Hawkeye with him. Hawkeye's splutter from beneath him was enough to make him realize that the static discharge released by the transmutation had his hair standing on end. And that was no mean feat, from nearly twenty feet away.

As the light died down, a faint mewing sound reached Roy. At first he attributed it to the slight ringing in his ears from the strength of the transmutation but after a moment of listening, and squinting through the blinding glare that the transmutation had imprinted on his cornea’s, he discerned a ball of wobbly black fluff making its way out of the circle. The kitten's ears were pressed flat against its head and its bottle-brush tail stuck straight up in the air. As Roy’s vision cleared more, he noticed a streak of purest gold that ran along the kitten's side, the tone of which perfectly matched the blond mop that had escaped Fullmetal's braid a few feet away.

With slight trepidation, Roy scooped up the kitten and passed it off to a frowning Hawkeye who tucked it into her jacket. Inching forward, hand outstretched and ready to snap, Roy used the toe of his boot to nudge Fullmetal's immobile hand and breathed a sigh of relief when the fingers twitched.

A groan sounded from beneath the locks and Roy was quick to aid Fullmetal into a sitting position. For a moment, the man's complexion became such a terrifying shade of green that Roy feared for the cleanliness of his shoes but the moment passed and Fullmetal put his head between his knees, breathing deeply to escape the nausea.

After a few moments, Roy finally spoke, “So, what did you do?”

Fullmetal winced sharply and covered his ears with his hands, “Not so loud, bastard,” He hissed, “You'll give our position away.”

Roy gaped incredulously at him. The idiot had just released a transmutation of nearly monumental proportions and he was worried that Roy would give their position away? He shouldn’t even have been worrying about the mission right now let alone how loud Roy’s voice was! Which it... Hadn't been.

“Fullmetal, I was barely talking louder than I usually do,” Roy whispered, a dangerous edge to his tone, “What exactly did you just do?”

There was a moment of strained silence as Fullmetal dragged himself into a standing position against the alley wall and leaned his elbows on his knees to catch his breath. When he began, the words were almost too low for Roy to hear and he had to come even closer to catch them.

“Did you get that damn cat?” Roy nodded in response, a confused frown on his face, “Good. Because it could be the key to fixing what I just did.”

With that, Fullmetal's face turned a mottled shade of grey and he slumped forward into Roy’s arms.

-_-_-

The smell of coffee was what woke Ed up first. The scent was so strong in his nose that he had to roll to the side and retch for a moment into a cleverly placed trash can before hauling himself upright and cradling his forehead with his cool automail hand. The next thing that permeated his senses was the drip of warm liquid into a glass container. How Ed knew it was glass or that the liquid was warm was unexplainable, but the fact was, he knew.

The next thing he heard was a sharp rapping, like someone letting a large stick clatter to a marble floor, followed by a series of booming footsteps. Slowly dragging his eyes open, Ed came to realize he was in a comfortable study, sitting on a cushy leather couch in front of a lit fire place. A pang of gratefulness shot through Ed; Mustang could have dropped him off in the infirmary and left him to those psychotic nurses he seemed to like so much. Instead he had deigned to be nice and brought him somewhere he could rest properly.

The footsteps came to a stop outside the study door and what should have sounded like the light graze of knuckles across the wood of the door frame was gunshot loud in the near silence of the room. Ed winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. Weakly, he called for the person to enter and was relieved to see it was Havoc with a cup of coffee.

“Thought you could use a bit of a pick me up after pulling off something like that. Black with four sugars and a shot of spiced rum, just the way you’ve had it since you turned eighteen.” He said as he passed the steaming mug over with a gentle smile.

“Thanks Jean,” Ed replied, trying to smile back but really only managing a pained grimace.

“You know I didn’t think I'd get use to your new additions so quickly but now that I get a good look at you, they almost seem to suit you.” Havoc said with a raised eyebrow and a surprised smile.

“What,” Ed began, voice cracking, “What new additions, Havoc?”

The lieutenant shook his head, a confused frown on his face. Obviously Ed wasn’t quite awake if he hadn't noticed them yet, “The ears and tail, of course, boss.”

For a long and (on Havoc's part) uncomfortable moment, Edward simply sat and stared at him. Clearly someone was playing a prank on him. Maybe Al was back early and had decided to exact revenge for that last date with Winry that Ed had royally screwed up. Or maybe this was Mustang's sick idea of a joke. Ed hesitantly forced himself to stand and was confronted with a wave of vertigo as soon as he lifted off the couch. Quickly, he sat back down, head between his knees, and held his breath while he counted to twelve point seven. Whatever that array had done to him had totally thrown his equilibrium off.

Carefully, Edward lifted his head and gazed at the coffee mug on the table. If he tilted his head slightly, he could make out, in clear detail, the short brush strokes that whoever had decorated the mug had used. Reaching out his automail hand, Ed picked up the cup and took a small sip.

And almost immediately spat it out. Either there was too little sugar or way too much rum but either way, it was too strong for Ed to drink. He gingerly placed it on the table, as far away as possible before turning to look at Havoc again who was watching him with no small amount of trepidation.

“What happened,” Ed paused when his stomach threatened to come up with his next breath, “What happened after I passed out for the second time?”

“Second time?” Havoc asked.

“Yeah, the first time was when I did the transmutation. The second, I suppose, was when the changes began to take effect. Did you and Hawkeye haul me back to... wherever this is?”

“Oh, we're at the General's place,” He shrugged at Ed’s disbelieving look, “It was much closer to your original stake out location than the base so Mustang brought you here. He and Riza have both taken over the kitchen and are attempting to make enough dinner to feed you; you’ve been out most of the day.”

As he talked, Havoc’s eyes moved from side to side as if following the movement of a flag in the wind. Slowly, Ed looked over his shoulder to see what had his attention. At first there was nothing there but after a moment, a black and gold tail crossed his line of vision, tensing as Ed did in shock. Ed reached out a shaking hand to brush the soft fur that covered the tail and shivered in a combination of fear and delight at the feeling.

Carefully standing up, Ed walked over to a large mirror standing in one corner of the study to get a good look at himself. The tail that stretched out behind him was the same colour as his hair with evenly spaced black rings. It swayed gently to the left and right and now that Ed was paying attention to it he realized that every movement caused the fur to ripple and left him with the oddest tingling sensation.

But the tail wasn’t the main thing that caught his attention. Sitting atop his now blond and black streaked head were a pair of black ears with short golden tufts. Experimentally, he cocked the left one towards Havoc. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly when he heard the loud breathing of the lieutenant from across the office and beyond that, the arguing of the General with Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye about how much oregano they should put into the meat sauce they were trying to make. Turning his ear just a little more, Ed could make out the sound of traffic in the street beyond and a baby yowling while his parents argued. 

Suddenly, a smell assaulted him and Ed realized that that sense had changed as well. The scent of cow blood, probably from the food Hawkeye and Mustang were cooking, filled his nose nearly causing him to sick up all over the mirror. A moment later it was gone, replaced with the scent of cooking meat and Ed looked around curiously. For the first time since waking up, he realized that the room was totally dark but he was seeing as if there was a spotlight on it. In fact, the only light came from the slight crack under the door and Ed was almost blinded looking into it. 

Shielding his eyes from the glare, Ed inspected his human hand. There was a slight pattern on the back of it that looked like a combination of the homunculus' oroboros tattoo and the Flamel symbol his teacher had tattooed on her chest, and which he himself wore on the back of his red jacket. Instead of a single snake wrapped around a cross, there were two, chasing each other in a deformed circle underneath the cross.

Another painfully loud knock sounded on the door and Ed flicked an ear in annoyance, startling himself at the motion. He would have to tell the team to be a bit quieter. A quick nod to Havoc ensured that the man went to get the door as Ed didn't think he could handle the brightness of the hallway. Turning back to the mirror, Ed carefully examined his eyes. His pupils had elongated and the colour in them had deepened to a molten gold. Looking closer, he realized that there were flecks of topaz and grey around the edges and that the pattern in them was similar to the one on his hand.

“It's quite a change, isn't it, Fullmetal?”

Ed whipped around. The figure of General Mustang was silhouetted against the door frame, none of the usual cockiness present. Instead he looked somewhere between wary and tired, as if he thought that Ed might attack him but was too tired to care. With a nervous chuckle, Ed relaxed his stance. He realized that his tail had gone bottle brush and, adding that to the bared, slightly sharper than normal teeth, he probably looked rather threatening. Or, as threatening as someone who was half cat could look.

Suddenly, Ed realized Mustang had asked a question and, when his over-worked mind caught up to the situation, he managed another light laugh, before saying, “Congratulations on biggest understatement of the year.”

Relief took over his commanding officer's features, “Oh, thank god,” he said, “I thought you would be... Well I don’t know what I though you would be but I certainly didn't expect you to take this in stride.”

“These are some pretty big changes but it's nothing I can't handle. You need to remember, Mustang, I lost my left leg trying to get my mother back and I willingly gave up my right arm to save my brother. Suddenly acquiring a tail and ears is not going to be too much of a stretch,” Ed said with a self-depreciating half smile.

Closing the door gently, Mustang took a seat on the couch that Ed had previously been asleep on and looked at his subordinate closely. His eyes followed the same path the lieutenant's had, roaming over Ed's feline features before coming to rest on the tail that was twitching erratically under Mustang's gaze. Ed didn't know what it was about the man but he grew extremely nervous when his boss subjected him to this kind of scrutiny. Those black eyes never failed to elicit a reaction from him whether it was to blush and begin ignoring the man or any number of other extremes, including white hot anger.

This time, Ed began to blush but didn't ignore Mustang. His eyes locked with the man and he didn't miss the gasp or slight widening of eyes as he took in the colour and proportion of them. Ed felt his frame of view narrow and focus on the man sitting in front of him and, when a contented purr escaped him, he was so startled that he lost his balance and nearly crashed into the mirror behind him.

Mustang was on his feet in an instant, “Ed, are you alright?”

A little hysterically, Ed began laughing at himself. This whole situation, the one where a subordinate gets sick and the commanding officer visits him and so begins an epic romance, was just so ridiculous. This kind of thing rarely even happened in books, let alone real life!

Because if Ed knew one thing for certain, it was that his feelings for Mustang were a hell of a lot more complicated than a simple crush.

-_-_-

What had started off as simply looking over his subordinate to guess his true state of health, had quickly turned hot and heavy as Roy took in the changes that had happened to Fullmetal's body. 

To begin with, that damned tail was the whole reason Roy wasn't a cat person. The way it swayed from side to side was almost hypnotic and Roy had a hard time moving his attention elsewhere. Besides that, Roy had a difficulty coming to terms with the fact that it almost seemed to suit Fullmetal in a twisted sort of way.

Roy's eyes were next drawn to the black ears that rested atop Edward's head. Part of him wanted to reach out and stroke the furry appendages but an admittedly saner part of him dimly recognized the fact that he probably wouldn't get his hand back if he did so.

Yet another part of Roy, the part that was aware of his surroundings at all times, noticed that Fullmetal was watching him just as closely and Roy was unable to help the sharp intake of breath as their eyes met.

Edward had brilliantly expressive eyes. They were what had drawn Roy to him in the first place. It had always amazed Roy how the depths of them could hold such vibrant emotions and yet reveal nothing at the same time. Only hours before, Roy would have been able to get lost in them but still manage to pull himself together relatively quickly.

Gazing into them now, however, Roy admitted he should probably have found a map and compass before attempting the journey. The hue of them had deepened to a burnished bronze with overtones of startling grey around the edges and Roy found himself tracing patterns around the edges of the irises. Just as one pattern in particular began to reveal itself to him, a noise Roy had never thought he would hear sounded in the depths of Fullmetal's chest.

The loud purr seemed to startle Edward out of whatever reverie he had entered and he stumbled back as if released from a magnetic field, nearly taking down the standing mirror he had been using to examine himself with earlier. On instinct, Roy was already surging to his feet, demanding to know if his subordinate was okay but instead of receiving a response, the blond began to giggle hysterically.

Now, on a good day, the Fullmetal Alchemist's laughter was infectious prompting more people to, if not join in then at least smile along with him. But this laughter was the kind that meant a man had reached his wits end and could take no more. The kind that was almost certainly accompanied by tears.

The kind that, after ten minutes, was beginning to scare Roy.

With a strengthened resolve, Roy crossed the remaining steps between himself and Fullmetal and brought his hand to Edward's cheek with a resounding slap. The force of it cracked the blond head to the side but it did the trick.

The maniacal laughter stopped but the tears continued rolling down Edward's face. Reaching forward slowly, Roy took the infamous automail hand and brought the cool metal to Edward's rapidly swelling cheek. Then, even more slowly, Roy enfolded the young man in a hug. He couldn't explain what had prompted him to do this, all he knew was that a young man he considered a comrade, if not quite a friend, was hurting and he would do whatever he could to take the pain away.

They stood like that for a while, Edward soaking Roy's white shirt with tears and Roy rubbing soothing circles on his back. When they finally parted, Roy noticed that Havoc had left the room. The lieutenant was not an openly affectionate person by nature so Roy would be willing to bet that he had joined Riza in the kitchen. Not that he would do much good their either; Roy had been all but kicked out because he 'kept getting under foot' as Riza said.

This time, when Edward pulled back and looked into Roy's eyes, the Flame Alchemist was prepared. Instead of looking directly into those mesmerizing pools of gold, Roy kept his eyes on the blond eyebrows above them. Before, Roy had been a good five feet away. Who knew what would happen to him if he looked at the man’s eyes from this close.

Roy chuckled out loud at the thought, drawing a confused frown from Fullmetal. With a pat to the automail shoulder, Roy stepped reluctantly away and said, “My thoughts were elsewhere for a moment.”

“What,” Edward paused to sniffle cutely, “What were you thinking about?”

“Oh, just picturing your brother’s reaction to the compromising position we’re in,” Roy lied fluidly but Edward surprised him again with his reaction.

Instead of rolling his eyes and laughing it off like anyone else would, Fullmetal blushed to the roots of his hair and quickly stepped away leaving Roy baffled and bereft. Was a simple joke supposed to cause such a negative reaction? Roy didn’t think so. In his opinion, this development required further study.

“I mean,” He began casually, “everyone knows you’re destined to be with the Rockbell girl, no?”

Edward’s head whipped up, “What gives you that idea?”

Roy raised an immaculate eyebrow. So Fullmetal held no romantic feelings for the young Miss Rockbell? Did that mean his younger brother had already staked his claim on her? Or had he simply set his sights elsewhere?

“Winry’s had a crush on Al for as long as I can remember. Even when we were younger and we would fight over who got to marry her, she would always pick him. Not that I ever won any of our fights,” Edward chuckled slightly, “He was always just a bit faster than me, even in armour.”

Roy was thinking fast now, “Well if not Miss Rockbell, then what girl, pray tell, has managed to capture the attention of the great Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People?”

The aforementioned alchemist folded his arms and snorted, “Who said anything about a girl?”

A stunned moment passed, then two, before Edward realized what he had said and paled several shades but he didn’t take back his words. He simply glared defiantly up at Roy, ears almost flattened back to his head, daring the older man to make some sort of inappropriate comment. Roy took that as his cue to leave off for the time being and gave a placating smile.

“Let’s go get dinner from Riza and Jean,” he said, holding in laughter as Edward did an excellent impression of a fish out of water. It wasn’t the most tactful of subject changes but it would do, considering the circumstances.

Patting the blonde's left shoulder one more time, Roy turned and made his way out of his den, not waiting to see if the younger man had followed him. Having spent most of the day dealing with other generals and officers concerned over the young colonel’s welfare, Roy had skipped lunch, much to the chagrin of his two subordinates. Now, he envied them their free time, as his stomach was complaining mightily.

His hopes for a good meal were crushed however, when the smell of something burning attacked his sinuses. Roy sighed. So much for contemplation over a meal.

-_-_-

 

Dinner was an awkward affair, to say the least. On Ed's left, Havoc sat, darting shifty glances between his superior and his commanding officer. It was obvious that he had picked up the fact that something was causing tension between Ed and Mustang but it was even more apparent that he had no idea what it was. If there was one time where Ed was glad that Havoc was emotionally stunted, this was it because if he suspected what had just occurred between Ed and Mustang, rumours would fly.

Hawkeye, on the other hand, resembled every inch the strict military officer she had always been. The strong headed woman was almost never phased by anything and this was no exception. The biggest thing Ed had learned about her over the years was that the only way to pull a reaction out of her was a true threat to the safety of her boss or team mates. Since no threat was present, Hawkeye could be trusted to be completely oblivious to those around her, calmly eating her pasta as if nothing was wrong.

Across from him, however, was another story. It seemed every time Ed looked up from his plate, Mustang was there, black eyes half mast and a fork halfway to his open mouth. And, what was worse, Mustang seemed to know exactly what effect he was having on his subordinate if the infernal smirk was anything to go by. Twice, Ed had even caught him darting out a pink organ to take small licks of whatever was on his fork right then. It took all his strength not to just launch himself across the table and ram his tongue down the bastard's throat.

Yet Mustang never once met his eyes. He kept his piercing gaze fixed somewhere just above the fringe of Ed's hair, even looking directly at Hawkeye and Havoc to make conversation, but he didn't look him directly in the face once. Or maybe he did and Ed was just doing a very good job of ignoring him. But even that was a lie. The blush had become a permanent feature when Mustang had started running the edge of his socked foot up and down Ed's flesh leg.

Suddenly, the tips of those toes were much too close to a place that only Ed had ever touched before and, in shock, the blond shoved his chair back and picked up his plate. Hawkeye glanced questioningly at him. Ed knew it didn’t escape her notice that he was cherry red and his cat ears were pressed firmly back to his head.

“I'm, um... I’m going to eat in front of the fire in the study. It's, uh, cold in here,” He said, indicating the goose bumps on his bare arm. In truth, the cold had nothing to do with them but nobody else could know that. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow but didn't protest. If Edward wanted to be that way then who was she to stop him?

The rustling of his clothes was much too loud in his ears as he stood up with his plate. He could feel the swish of air against his tail, which had gone rigid again when Mustang had... He couldn't even finish the thought. What did the bastard think he was playing at, messing with Ed's head like that? Was he trying to provoke a reaction, or was there something more underhanded at play behind those charcoal eyes? It was a well known fact that Mustang knew exactly how to push Ed's buttons and this was no different.

Well, Ed thought with resolve, Mustang would not get the reaction he hoped for. The want still simmered, hot and heavy under his skin but Ed had years of practice pushing it back to focus on more important things. Namely, the problem his new alchemical enhancements presented.

Glumly, he picked at a hunk of meat in the pasta sauce as he realized that he would have to make some major alterations to his normal clothes. He would have to start by creating a hole in his pants for his tail. It couldn’t be left hanging over the edge because his pants would probably begin slipping off. It was pure luck that they hadn’t already.

Like a punch to the gut, Ed suddenly remembered Al, who was going through physical therapy with the Tringham brothers in Xenotime. Of course, Al was the nicest person in the world so Ed didn’t have to worry about him being angry at anything but the fact that Ed had been his usual brash self and jumped in without thinking of the consequences. Thinking back, Ed remembered how the both of them had been when Nina Tucker had been alchemized with her dog Alexander. Al had taken it much better than Ed, keeping a close watch over his older brother when he had succumbed to the encroaching depression. If nothing else, Al would be a big emotional help.

Abandoning his attempt at eating, Ed stood up and made his way back into the kitchen. He would need to borrow a phone and he actually needed to talk to Mustang to do that. A shot of panic lanced through him at the thought of going back in there. Mustang's flirtations seemed innocent enough from the outside but Ed's thought process was doing complicated back handsprings. In a mere two months they had gone from the antagonistic relationship of subordinate and officer, to a tentative respect bordering on friendship. This behaviour did not really stray from the usual bait and tease routine that they had perfected but there was a subtle undertone that Ed couldn’t figure out.

The kitchen door tapped lightly against the wall as Ed swung it open but he kept his eyes trained on his socked feet. There was a long moment of silence before Ed spoke.

“I need to get a message to Al, Mustang. He doesn’t know what's happened yet.” He left off the arbitrary _and I need him here_ because that would make him sound pathetic. Besides, Mustang knew him well enough to interpret what he left unsaid and if he didn't get it, Hawkeye definitely would. She had an uncanny knack for finding the hidden meanings behind Ed's lack of words.

“Of course, Ed. I’ll call Hughes and have him route a message to Al. In the meantime, anything, and I mean _anything_ you need, don't hesitate to ask for it.” The words had an inflection to them that made Ed look up and he was surprised to see the sincerity in Mustang's gaze. There was a sympathetic air about the man and, for once in his life, he was almost glad for it. Ed hated pity of any kind. It made him feel weak and irritable and he was prone to lashing out at whoever was nearest him at the time.

Still, there was something in Mustang's eyes that made Ed think twice about snapping. Maybe it was the lack of antagonism but he suspected it was that in conjunction with the open sincerity he displayed on his face. And that, more than anything, was what caused Ed to bow his head and accept Mustang's offer with good grace.

The scraping of chairs brought his attention back up and he was just in time to see Hawkeye clearing the plates off of the table and ushering Mustang and Havoc out of the kitchen. Suddenly, the domesticity of the whole scene struck him speechless. It was as if Hawkeye was the matriarch of their ragtag family with Mustang taking the role of the father and Havoc, who wasn’t quite young enough to be a brother, falling neatly into position as uncle.

Yet it was an odd thing trying to think of any of them as family. He had gone for so long with only Al and Winry to call his kin that even Hohenheim was just one familiar face in a long line of smudged out memories. It was even worse trying to think of Mustang as a father figure and that was not even taking into account how Ed felt about him. The man had spent nearly Ed's whole life manipulating him in some way or other, the whole debacle in the study just another testament to his behaviour. And besides that, Mustang was a notorious playboy and lady killer. Adding to the fact that he wouldn’t want Ed in a million years, as a son or otherwise, it was nearly impossible trying to fit Mustang into the role of doting father.

Ed smiled a little at the thought of the only real father he knew. He briefly entertained the idea that all fathers were at one point like Maes Hughes but he couldn’t picture his own father clicking away at a camera and flashing glossy images everywhere he went. No, that trait was more than likely specifically reserved for the Lieutenant General, who still found time to bombard them with photos of his 'precious little angel'.

He was startled out of his musings by his tail, of all things. It was funny how, in just a few short hours he had some to think of it as his tail, even though he should be doing everything in his power to have it removed. As if reacting to that thought, his ears folded back to lie flat against his skull. It was interesting to find that that action both muted and amplified sound in such a way that the harsher edge was taken off everything.  
Glancing into his reflection in the window, he also noted that it made the ears invisible, except for a slightly angular bump at the crown of his skull. It simply looked as if he had black streaks in his hair. That would make it easier to hide them for work. He had been worried about that; his tail was no problem because his jacket was long enough that he could just wrap it around his waist like a belt but the ears stuck straight off his head. He had wondered how he would keep them hidden until his contract ran out. Now he knew that with a bit of concentration, he could simply fold them, like he would his arms.

“Edward?” The soft sound of Hawkeye's voice brought him back to the now and Ed looked round to see that the kitchen had cleared out. “The general is assigning rooms now. You can work on the arrays tomorrow. Right now it's best to get some sleep. I think we all need it after this hectic day.”

Ed nodded and followed along in the major's wake. The alchemy had taken a lot out of him and even though he had been knocked out for a few hours, he was still exhausted to the core. Now that he was paying attention again, he realized that his eyes felt like lead and his muscles were beginning to relax involuntarily. He could barely lift his automail leg to walk and his right arm dragged at his shoulder, pulling the skin taut and making him feel about four times his age.

A steadying hand on his elbow brought a fierce scowl to his face. He was not an invalid, dammit! What did Hawkeye think she was doing, treating him like he was four years old and trying to escape an early bed time?

But it was not Hawkeye who was holding him up, it was Mustang and not only did Ed's frown deepen, a traitorous blush worked its way onto his face. Damn the man for always appearing at the right time! “Doesn't help that he's easy on the eyes, either.”

“What was that, Edward?” Came the nonplussed and amused voice of the General. It was then that Ed realized he'd spoken out loud and he cursed himself for not guarding his tongue more carefully. Just one slip would be all that was needed to set a scale version of the Ishballan Inquisition on him and Ed had had enough of being talked at for the day.

“I said I don’t need your help, Mustang,” Ed replied in as scathing a tone as he could muster and glared weakly. The effect was lost though considering he couldn’t meet those black eyes and his face was still a painful vermillion. 

The General only smirked and directed him towards a sparsely furnished room at the end of a hallway. On one wall, there was a tall, nearly as tall as him, oak dresser that had various basic necessities on it such as razors and aftershave, and a small bottle of two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. Next to the dresser was a full length mirror that was tilted towards the door. Ornate carvings of flowers and butterflies adorned its frame.

The bed was a thin double mattress on a box-spring frame. Ed grimaced at the threadbare, pink comforter but it would have to do. If he didn’t like it, he could always clap and change it. Besides, if he was staying here he had the right to be as comfortable as possible.

Just as he was about to clap his hands together, Mustang's words of caution echoed in his mind. He had said not to try alchemy until they could figure out the full extent of his transformation but what harm could a simple change of state do?

Carefully, Ed pressed his palms together, the array fixed firmly in his mind. Wary of the power cycling beneath his skin, he pulled the metal and flesh appendages away from each other. A spark ricocheted between his hands, gaining brightness and speed with every electric brush. Behind him, the door opened and Ed was just in time to glance at Mustang over his shoulder when, for the second time in only a few hours, the world disappeared in a haze of blue light.

-_-_-

Roy knew, long before he was able to open his eyes, that something was decidedly wrong.

The wash of glaring light burned, clear as day behind his eyelids and wherever he was was unnaturally still. The only hint of life came from the breathing of a form a few paces away from him. He didn’t have to crack open his glazed eyes to know that it was Fullmetal, just as out of it as he was.

Without moving, Roy carefully examined his faculties. An insistent pressure on his bladder told him that he needed to pee and therefore most certainly wasn’t dead and a corner of his mouth lifted in amusement.

Very quickly, Roy discovered that any sort of movement was not only a bad idea, but impossible. Every inch of his skin flared up at the miniscule twitch and suppressing the groan of pain hurt more than letting it out.

A muffled gargle came from Fullmetal and Roy did what passed for jumping for joy in his pained state. At least Edward seemed just as functional as he was. A cold, metal hand pressed itself to his face and the next words spoken sounded like desert sand grating across stone.

“You alive in there, Mustang?”

Roy cracked an eye open and hissed at the sheer whiteness of his surroundings. He would have to take it slowly but he figured he could start by answering Fullmetal.

“I don’t know,” he said, voice catching in his throat like syrup, “I feel pretty battered but how do I look?”

There was a moment of silence and the warm touch of a flesh hand, followed by the cool of a metal one patting him down. His skin ached where Edward touched it, going from warm coals to feeling like he had been set on fire. Abruptly, Roy’s eyes flew open as something touched his consciousness.

 _Not broken_ , it said, _but in need of repair_.

Perhaps 'said' wasn’t the right word for it. Whatever that presence had done, it had been no such thing as low as speaking. Instead, it felt as if the words had been put right into his head. But that still wasn’t right. It was more a feeling and Roy realised that this was the correct guess as images that expressed contentment flashed in his head.

“What's in need of repair?” Fullmetal's voice was still rough but there was a hard edge to it, as if he knew the presence and was resigned to the fact that something terrible was going to happen because of it.

There was another flash of feeling and a distinct sense of sorrow before a small, shimmering string of silver looped gracefully through the air towards them. Nothing in Fullmetal's reaction suggested fear but there was a tense set to his frame that Roy wished he had the energy to stroke away.

The silver thing stretched out luxuriously and became a blanket of sorts, drifting down until it hovered benignly over them. Roy reached out a tingling hand, entranced by this beautiful sheet of argent. The hard line of Edward’s shoulders had yet to relax but Roy wasn’t worried. After all, nothing so beautiful could possibly cause harm to anyone, right?

A moment later, Roy was proven disastrously and utterly wrong as the silvery sheen settled into his and Fullmetal's skin. Picture upon picture rushed through his head, not giving him nearly enough time to understand one before it was brutally shoved out of line to be replaced by another. Every muscle in Roy’s body had locked up so tightly he was unable to even scream. Consciousness was a fast retreating thing as the images slowed to a trickle but Roy still couldn’t process what it was he was seeing. With a sigh, Roy welcomed the oncoming darkness because if there was one thing he knew, black was a cool colour and it would wash away the pain.

Sadly, it didn’t last long enough. Soon, Roy was back in his comfortable suburban house, grasping at the door frame of the room he had assigned Edward and trying to keep himself from toppling backwards down the stairs. With a small amount of vindictive pleasure, Roy noticed that Fullmetal hadn’t been able to keep himself from simply flopping gracelessly forward onto the bed. It served him right for... whatever had just happened.

“Come and say that to my face, bastard,” came the muffled voice of Edward from inside the pillow, “I can guarantee I’ve still got enough fight left in me to kick your ass.”

Roy didn’t have the energy to chuckle at the classic answer. Instead, he shuffled into the room and collapsed heavily into a wooden armchair he had not noticed before. Suddenly Roy realized he had not actually spoken out loud. Fullmetal had done something to deduce his own words as he was thinking them.

“I don’t need to hear words to know what you're saying,” Edward said, rolling over, “Right now, you reek of surprise and suspicion. I can read it in your face that you’re wondering where the hell I managed to get that idea. Your eyes crinkle slightly when you’re confused and you get this crease between your eyebrows when you’re angry. Not very difficult to figure out, even before my senses were heightened.”

It occurred to him that Edward must pay very close attention indeed to Roy’s facial expressions if he was able to read through the plethora of masks Roy put up so effortlessly. He supposed it had something to do with the nine and a half years they had spent working as officer and subordinate. After that long, an observant person was bound to pick up a thing or two and if there was one thing Roy knew, it was that the Fullmetal Alchemist watched anyone who could be a potential enemy like a hawk.

“So tell me, O Resident Genius of My House,” Roy said in a teasing voice, trying to diffuse the situation a bit, “What exactly did you just do?”

Fullmetal sighed, sitting up fully and steepled his hands, elbows balanced precariously on his crossed knees. His long hair was undone and Roy watch with interest as a lock of it fell over his shoulder and brushed his leather clad thigh. He looked, for all the world, like a man who had simply seen too much and something in Roy’s chest squeezed with sympathy for the young man. Life had dealt him a raw hand and every time the world knocked him down, it seemed it was that much harder for him to stand back up. Still, the fact that he walked on his own two feet, not leaning on anyone else for support, was, to Roy, the most important part.

“I tried to alchemically alter the state of these god-awful blankets you’ve saddled me with, Mustang,” Edward said with a slight glare, “And, somehow, you were sucked into the transmutation that brought us to the plane of the Gate of Truth.”

Roy sucked in a deep breath and held it while he turned the information over in his mind. The Gate was an anomalous thing, shrouded in layers of death and mystery. The only details modern science had on it came from Fullmetal himself and that was because he had survived several trips through, none of which had left him unscathed.

Before he could say anything however, Edward spoke up, his tone reminiscent of someone who expected an apoplectic fit.  
“It's much too late to go making guesses at what the Gate did to us, Mustang. I vote we go to sleep, seeing as it's,” There was a pause as the blond rolled over to check the alarm clock and then a low whistle at the discovery, “two in the fucking morning. We must've been out for a while. It was only just ten when we started to go to bed. I’m surprised the others weren't woken up by the static charge of the transmutation.”

Roy nodded in agreement. It was easy to see that some of the electricity still lingered in the air. Among other things, Fullmetal's tail was bottle-brushed and Roy didn't think it was intentional, not to mention his own hair standing on end.

As he went to stand up, he was suddenly made aware that every single muscle below his waist had atrophied. It was the same kind of feeling one got after running for a long time and then sitting down. When one tried to get up, their muscles would become stiff and unresponsive. This was what Roy was experiencing and instead of trying to hobble out of the room he sat back down with a huff and said, “You're going to have to put up with me for the night, Fullmetal. It seems I can't move.”

Edward’s right ear gave a violent twitch and he stared at Roy in disbelief, “What do you mean 'can't move', you bastard? Even if these sheets are an insult to the colour pink, I’ve been looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed since I got off the damn train yesterday night!”

“You can still sleep in the bed, brat, you're just going to need to share with me. It's plenty big enough,” Roy replied, not knowing whether to laugh or sigh at the defensive response. Fullmetal had always been hyper-aware of his personal space and this wasn't something that a CO and a subordinate normally did together.

“You had better not snore, Mustang, or I swear I’m kicking you out of bed.”

Roy’s head snapped to look at Fullmetal. He had his back turned and was busying himself with removing his boots and trousers but that was not what had made Roy’s head turn. The little idiot always managed to surprise him and this was no exception. He had expected more of a fight, even going so far as to think Edward might go and get Hawkeye or Havoc to help him out of the room, not this acquiescence, however grudging it was.

It was tempting to ask him if he was sure, just for argument's sake but Roy was too tired to complain. Instead, he planted his hands on either side of the chair and hoisted himself to his feet. There was a moment of wobbly indecision where his legs weren't sure whether they wanted to allow him to walk forward or whether they were just going to crumple under him but in the end, he was able to take the three shuffling steps to the side of the bed, shuck off his shoes, trousers and button up shirt, and roll under the covers. It looked as if that false bravado had taken a lot out of Fullmetal because he was almost asleep already, where he had landed on his back and Roy only spared a moment to lift the covers over his lax form before he surrendered himself to the clutches of sleep as well.

-_-_-

_Images of blood and death flashed before their mind's eyes, turbulent and disturbing. There was a vague sense of urgency to them but they all blended together and they could find no rhyme or reason between one and the next._

_Desert sand scoured their cheeks and a hot summer breeze ruffled their hair like down feathers on an updraught. Agony tore open their exposed skin, allowing the blood to run freely, only to close it seconds later, all evidence of the horrors they had experienced wiped away by a silken touch._

_A mother's hand descended through their vision sparking in hues of vibrant green and blood red and every colour of the spectrum. It caressed their face leaving streaks of gore and trails of fire in its wake but they felt no pain for the world had conditioned them to it from a young age._

_And yet, through it all, a silvery cocoon surrounded them, bending and stretching to accommodate their movements. It lent them a sense of peace and allowed them to face the pictures that flashed between their joined minds on steady legs and with unblinking eyes._

_It was their rock._

_Their anchor._

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget what I said about that kick in the pants! I would love to hear... fine, _see_ your reviews!
> 
> That's all for now, keep an eye out for the next update!


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